The problem is, you never really are. As we sloshed on the paint in companionable silence last weekend, with only bird calls and the occasional very high aeroplane to bother us, I think we both thought how lucky we are. Then Cher arrived. I don't mean literally, but it would appear that the neighbour likes a bit of Cher on a Saturday afternoon. It sounded like a "Best of... " compilation CD on high rotation with the filler tracks skipped: Turn Back Time and that one from Spalsh again and again and again. Not surprising then that after a couple of hours we were humming along.
Occasionally we got a reprieve as the wind swung around to the east and as the afternoon wore on the music improved a bit with some classy 90s ladies - Sinead, Tori, Kate. When it stopped and I felt my head explode with the silence.
Sunday afternoon appeared to be a repeat session so I suspect it coincides with the first beer of the day. Sounds like a plan to me.
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